Introduction: Our Old Friend
At its heart, imposter syndrome is the chronic, persistent belief that:
“I do not belong here”
“I don’t have a legitimate claim on a position here”
“I’m not good enough to be here”
The people around us seem so much more competant than we are. Our heart plunges. Anxiety tightens in our chest. Fear grips our mind. It may escalate:
“Any moment now people are going to uncover the truth about me, and hate me for it”
“I’m a fraud”
“I don’t deserve to be here”
“I’m a burden to these people”
These thoughts are deeply uncomfortable and confronting. Their apparent truthfulness seems indisputable. It is as though any self-lacerating thought is granted immediate expedition and legitimacy within our mind:
A thought about how we’re incompetent? 100% true, send directly to the headquarters of consciousness with a golden seal.
A thought about how we might be good enough? That can only appear softly, occasionally, and somewhere far back in the recesses of the mind.
And heaven forbid a thought occurs to us that we might already be excellent in every possible way. What nonsense!
This essay explores some ways to deal with imposter syndrome, by a fellow imposter.
If there’s any doubt in your mind that I am a fellow imposter, then I will openly share some of my own ‘imposter syndrome’ thoughts with you:
“Surely, someone else could have written a better essay, or already has”
“Who I am to pretend to write an essay on a topic relating to psychology? I’m not a qualified psychologist.”
“No-one is going to read this. No-one’s interested.”
So I am here, with you, friend. At least I can lay solid claim to belonging amongst the imposters!
I invite you to explore with me. This essay will explore imposter syndrome from several distinct angles.
Pain, not brokenness
What if imposter syndrome is a symptom of an inner psychological imbalance, ultimately caused by nothing more or less complicated than … pain.
Woundedness. Hurt. Lots of it.
A physical analogy might help here. Imagine one’s liver were malfunctioning. It’s not that livers are inherently bad organs, but my liver, at this time, is sick and imbalanced. When it functions well, it breaks down nutrients and makes them available to my body. When it is not functioning well I have hepatitis, leading to a dull ache or pressure under my ribs among other issues.
Framing imposter syndrome as a symptom of pain and a kind of inner imbalance of the mind is one step we can take towards a more compassionate exploration. Instead of “what’s wrong with me” one might ask “what happened to me?”
The Inner Critic
Imagine you and I were designing a human mind, and we wanted to make it such that it’d be able to thrive in a variety of environments and social situations.
We might speculate that it needs various modules to function well. For example, in one of our workshops we might write on the whiteboard:
“The human brain needs a ‘resentment’ module, so it can keep track of what’s fair and what’s not”.
One of the modules we might design is the ‘inner critic’ module. This module would be in charge of self-improvement. Its job would to identify when and where the human it is in might be able to learn, grow and improve to better its own wellbeing and the wellbeing of those around it.
Arguably it might be one of the most important modules of a brain.
But like any organ, the inner critic can fall ill, and malfunction. When it’s working well, and it’s had an emotionally secure upbringing, the inner critic isn’t trying to denigrate us constantly. Rather, it is our ‘helpful inner suggestor’, saying things like:
“Oh, hang on, I think we didn’t quite understand that, perhaps we can ask for clarification” “We don’t have those skills… yet”
“This is not our fault. This is just something that happened to us” When we find ourselves in a professional setting surrounded by smart and competent people, instead of belittling us saying “we don’t belong”, the inner critic might revel in the opportunity for growth and self-improvement:
“We can learn a lot from these people.”
But when it is ill, what could otherwise have been framed as a wonderful opportunity to learn from the smart and competent people around us is reframed as yet more evidence of our own inadequacy:
“I don’t fit in here”
“Everyone else is so good, how could I possibly deserve to be here”.
In extreme scenarios, I like to call this “radicalised inner critic in exile”:
‘Radicalised’: our inner critic has been hijacked by self-hatred. It’s ill, and malfunctioning. It has been radicalised against us.
‘In exile’: because what the inner critic constantly says to us is so hurtful, our mind constantly rebuffs it and pushes it away. It feels as though the inner critic is something ‘outside of us’, the ‘harsh voice inside our head’ frequently bearing down on us.
In the Linkin Park song Papercut, the lyrics illustrate this state of self really well:
“I don’t know what stressed me first or how the pressure was fed
But I know just what it feels like to have a voice in the back of my head…
Like a face that I hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face that watches every time I lie
A face that laughs every time I fall (and watches everything)…
It’s like I’m paranoid, looking over my back
It’s like a whirlwind inside of my head
It’s like I can’t stop what I’m hearing within
It’s like the face inside is right beneath my skin
I know I’ve got a face in me…
Points out all my mistakes to me”
Our mind becomes a battleground of the inner critic vs. other emotions and parts of us. Perhaps we get really angry with ourselves (AKA our inner critic) for how harsh we constantly are to ourselves. Perhaps we grow miserable because life under the constant influence of such self-flagellation has grown intolerable.
In this situation, sometimes things revolve between seemingly stable and then suddenly not. It may seem as though we had successfully locked the inner critic in it’s tight box outside. But then a trigger occurs; a client is unhappy, a colleague produced an excellent piece of work that we’re secretly envious of, or maybe we’ve suddenly awoken at 1 in the morning and consciousness is flooded with self-critical thoughts.
When the inner critic doesn’t have a permanent seat at the inner table, it can come suddenly rushing through the back door. We’re triggered and now we’re in panic. Anxiety comes rushing through the barricades we put up to resist it.
It needs to be heard. Our inner excellence is struggling, desperate for integration with the wider self. It’s on a quest to find greatness but it’s gotten sick and distorted along the way. It’s desperate to discover personal growth and transformation. But instead of exploring those desires and needs in constructive ways, our anxiety has reached a damaging level of desperation.
Healing involves infusing this system with empathy and compassion; perhaps seeing our inner critic, not as some all-powerful, all-encompassing darkness that we’re constantly needing to rebuff, but more like an utterly desperate child making a heck of a lot of noise and ruckus.
Perhaps we can ask the question “What is the inner critic trying to say?”…
Not “what is it saying word for word?” – we know that already, it’s saying we’re useless and don’t deserve to live. But what is it trying to say? We might even consciously think the thought “Dear inner critic, if you could say anything, but it must be stripped of unnecessary, unkind and unfair harshness, then what would you say to me right now?”
If the answer comes out as a garbled mess of self-hating comments, we can notice that mindfully, feel the harsh energy in our chest or in our forehead, feel the hurt and sadness it provokes, and not take it all too seriously right now. Perhaps we stop the exercise until we’re feeling better and ready to try again. Or perhaps for some of us this exercise can only be successfully done in the presence of a good friend or therapist who can hold the intensity of the situation without immediately trying to distract you away from it, or solve it with quick yet ineffective solutions, or perhaps worse yet: medicate it away. Because the ultimate solution to anxiety isn’t never-ending distraction until the next triggering event overwhelms our system, or constant, unending resistance to the situation (that ultimately makes it worse- that which is resisted grows stronger). The solution is self-knowledge and insight, gained through compassion, introspection and patience. The solution is a healthy accommodation with, and even dare we say a strong relationship and ‘alliance’ with with the inner critic, involving careful listening, and neither full indulgence nor full dismissiveness.
Healing takes time and won’t happen all at once.
Emotional safety in professional environments: a few reframings of ‘imposter’
Switching gears, let us imagine for the sake of argument a professional setting where we legitimately lack the skills to successfully perform our role. Let’s assume we are the dreaded ‘impostor’ that we seem to so frequently imagine ourselves to be.
I’d like to argue that even that might not be the end of the world, and that in an emotionally secure professional environment, the situation could be handled tactfully.
Let’s say for the sake of argument that through some fluke, we managed to get hired into a role for which our skills are genuinely, woefully inadequate. Perhaps we winged it in the several rounds of interviews and somehow managed to deceive everybody. Perhaps we deceived even ourselves. Or perhaps we simply underestimated how difficult the role would be and what skills it would require. Whatever the history, we now find ourselves in a situation where we’re not qualified to be in the role that we are in fact in.
What now?
Imagine the following conversation happening between you and your manager in these circumstances:
You: “I’m really scared to say this but I’ve come to realise that I genuinely lack the skills to perform well in this role. When I observe my colleagues at work, I am genuinely flabbergasted. They seem to have so many more skills and capabilities than I do. I’m afraid one day soon some of you will turn around and ask what I’m doing here…
I don’t want to wait until that day. I want to open a discussion with you now. I think I lack the skills to perform this role and I’d like to talk about how we navigate this situation.”
The proverbial ‘emotionally mature’ manager might say something like the following things to us:
“I’m glad you brought this up and it must be very confronting for you to speak so openly about your feelings. I have also become aware of a gap between your current skills and what successful execution of this role might require. Some of your colleagues have noticed it too.
I want to reassure you that this does not negatively reflect on you as a human being. You are intrinsically valuable, even if you aren’t able to do this work right now. This happens sometimes. The fact that you are aware of it and seeking resolution is in itself highly encouraging. It’s much easier to work with someone who is aware of a gap between their skills and what the role requires than it is to work with someone who is blind to their own lack of skill. I praise you for your initiative. I’d rather work with you than someone who is a combination of ignorant and arrogant. So, let’s talk about what to do next.”
We could imagine the supportive manager and company mapping out several options for us, collaboratively with us. Perhaps they have sufficient resources to bear with us as we put in the effort to catch up. Perhaps they have other roles for which a person of our sincerity and integrity might be better suited. Or perhaps they simply say to us that it’s time for us to find employment elsewhere but they will give us a supportive runway in the form of a few weeks or months ongoing employment (or payment in lieu) while we seek a new job.
The point of this imaginative exercise is not to claim that many employers are actually like this (sadly, they are not, and our fears and reservations about coming forward sincerely like this are probably justified in many cases). The point is to demonstrate that in an emotionally secure environment, even a significant gap in skills can be both identified and navigated with empathy and pragmatism. It’s not written in stone that things would end badly through some kind of scandalous uncovering of us as an ‘imposter’. On the contrary, if we’re lucky enough to find ourselves in a positive working environment, our self-awareness regarding our skills gap might even be received positively, and with the right support, could result in nothing but positive outcomes.
Empowering other inner voices and a sense of balance
Many common remedies for ‘imposter syndrome’ involve encouraging the sufferer to “think about your strengths”, “think about what you’re good at” and “believe in yourself”.
On their own, I’d argue, those can amount to more resistance towards, and pushing away of, the desperate inner critic. There’s hardly a point merely thinking about what you’re good at and never thinking about growth opportunities, such an exercise might only reinforce pre-existing blindspots that our desperate inner critic is trying to highlight to us.
However, once we’ve given the inner critic its fair due, these more ‘positive thinking’ explorations start to make a lot more sense. Maybe we aren’t just ‘incompetent’. Maybe we do have a lot going for us. Maybe we do have some legitimate strengths we can play to. Maybe we have accomplished many things in our time. Maybe we’ve more or less successfully navigated decades of adult life, after all.
Finding balance also involves amplifying and empowering our positive inner voices. And our confidence can grow, not just from superficial exercises in positive thinking, but in genuine reflection regarding our achievements, successes and lessons already learned.
Perhaps we can share some of our past successes with a close friend, someone who is warm and receptive. Perhaps hearing their responses of “oh wow” “well done” “right on!” might change our inner equations about how much we’ve really accomplished and done.
More to life than merely achieving more
As we get to know our inner critic more, understanding its history, origins and aspirations, we might discover something interesting: our perceptions of ‘success’ and ‘self-actualisation’ that seem to drive us so much have been absolutely flooded by, and we may have ingested a great deal of “cultural narratives about ‘success’ and ‘achievement'”. We’ve come to take certain things as absolute truths, when in fact, they are passing cultural fashions not much different from the latest in clothing fashion trends.
We might, in our moments of deep questioning, wonder why so many of us are so driven to ‘achieve’ so much? What’s the point of all of this aspiration and ambition? Is it actually building a better world?
We might focus our attention on the seemingly ‘rich’ and ‘successful’ members of society. The deeper we investigate their lives, the more horrified we might become. We might read the rare yet highly valuable flavour of ‘sincere’ memoirs that some of these people have written (Examples: Will Smith’s book Will, or Britney Spear’s book The Woman in Me) or read other biographies about folks like Steve Jobs or Elon Musk.
The more we read, the more conflicted we might become. “Wow, Steve Jobs really was … something”.
It’s by following through with our deepest ambitions, imagining ourselves on the highest peak of the highest mountain that we might be able to fully deconstruct the entire enterprise of striving. We might see it for what it is: a house of cards.
In Will Smith’s biography he candidly asks: “We have everything. Why are we still so unhappy?”.
Part of balance is letting go of many initial ambitions. And while we’re doing that, maybe we can refocus on the ones that really matter.
Systems thinking and upward mobility
Finally, let us make the argument that, broadly speaking, some degree of ongoing ‘inadequacy’ is valuable for both us and society at large, even if we are currently ‘underqualified’. Moving in the general direction of more skill is a good thing, and one of the best ways to upskill is to work in a role doing those things.
Perhaps finding ourselves in a role where “we don’t have all of the skills” is actually both okay, and even, a good thing, if we have a growth mindset.
It’s often been noted that our modern world has a massive lack of skillful, emotionally mature leadership. We see evidence of this everywhere. Many of us will have such negative experiences at work with management that we may actually get sick. And looking at world news, at the never ceasing stream of incompetence and greed on display is enough to run us down completely.
Perhaps this is because there are too many real ‘imposters’, and not enough sincere ‘imposters’ like us, who are trying to learn and grow?
Let’s explore some ideas through an analogy of a university.
Imagine you work for a university. All around you are so-called ‘smart’, ‘competent’ people.
Firstly, as many people who work in universities soon discover, this is an illusion. Only a subset of those ‘smart’, ‘competent’ people are actually that. Many are not. But let’s put that aside for a minute and imagine that quite literally, everyone in the university system is good at their jobs.
What now? Where do you fit into this organisation fully staffed with brilliant human specimens?
I’ll tell you. Time will pass. People are going to retire. People are going to move on. Gaps are going to open that need to be filled. Restructurings might happen. People might be let go. Then what? Who is going to come in and fill those gaps?
None of us are born into this world with decades of experience in leadership or highly technical roles. The only way those gaps become filled is ‘good enough’ people striving to be a bit better each day, doing their best, and having an open, growth-oriented mind.
Hence, what I’m trying to say is, with the passage of time, upward mobility is a necessity. We need to be given opportunities where we are slightly inadequate for the job, and will learn along the way. If we aren’t, the already massive gaps in society will grow even larger.
So you are doing a good thing by being an ‘imposter’, actually. You’re saying to the world “I see something that needs doing. I don’t know exactly how to do it just yet. But I am giving it my best shot”. Maybe in your first attempt you fail wildy. With any luck, no-one gets hurt, and you get a second try. Then a third. Eventually, you are not an ‘imposter’ any more, you do in fact, belong here, and have, in fact, growth a great deal of wisdom and skill along the way.
Conclusion
In conclusion, just a few encouraging suggestions to myself and others who feel as though they are ‘imposters’:
The world needs leadership, but it’s totally your choice whether you take the mantle.
Make the inner critic your ally. Reality check your inner critic’s beliefs and assertions with trusted friends, mentors and therapists- it might be onto something. But it might also be full of bullshit. Cultivate emotional safety for yourself and those around you. Surround yourself with smart, skillful, insightful and gracious people who you will learn from, and with any luck, you’ll all enjoy the journey along the way.
Take skill seriously. It’s okay to say “I don’t know”. It’s okay to say “I’m not confident, because I don’t know how to do this well just yet”.
Embrace your pre-existing quest for excellence and self-actualisation, but don’t let it consume you.
Embrace the paradox of already being “good enough”, while still having much that could yet be learned.
Settle back and become aware of the struggle within you. Frame the hurtful parts of you, not as all-powerful darkness, but as misguided yet well-intentioned.
You do have a claim on existence, independent of your skills and talents.
Enjoy the journey. And take things one day at at time.
